Harry Potter: The Next Generation
by FalafelPrincessC
Summary: Originally titled "ANOTHER pointless HP fic", this story is about Ron Weasley's daughter, Lydia, who moves from America to England to enroll in Hogwarts and start a new life. It's got romance, plot lines and a normal teenage girl.
1. Moving

Idly, Lydia flicked her fingers at a bothersome fly. It buzzed off, only to return again, flying around the vicinity of her ear. She brushed it away impatiently to return her concentration to her book:

_The gnome is a common garden pest found throughout northern Europe and North America. It may reach a foot in height, with a disproportionately large head and hard, bony feet. The gnome can be expelled from the garden by swinging it in circles until dizzy and then dropping it over the garden wall. Alternatively a Jarvey may be used, though many wizards nowadays find this method of gnome-control too brutal._

With a sigh, she marked another line on a piece of paper already filled with rows of crossed lines. "Five, ten..." she counted. "Forty, forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-nine." She exhaled in exasperation, then started again.

_The gnome is a common garden pest found throughout northern Europe and North America..._

Finally she crossed her fiftieth line and stood from the chair she'd been sitting in. Wincing and rubbing her rear, she walked into her kitchen.

"Mom, I'm done now," she said.

Her mother turned. "Fifty times, are you sure?" she asked.

"Yes! I'm sure!" Lydia glared at her mother. Marie Weasley avoided her glare and, looking over Lydia's head, said, "Hello, Ron!"

Lydia turned and was greeted by the sight of her father, bending his head slightly to fit through the doorway. His red hair-covered head was uncommonly high off the ground, since Ron Weasley was well over six feet tall. Marie was tall for a woman at five foot eleven, and Lydia had inherited their height. At age fourteen and already five foot eight, she was several inches taller than most girls her age, and many boys as well. She blamed it on her parents and wished fervently (and very often) that she were shorter.

"Hello, dear," he said, approaching and kissing Marie. Lydia looked away, disgusted.

"Mom made me read the stuff about gnomes fifty times just because I didn't de-gnome the garden," Lydia said accusingly.

"That's very nice," her father said, distracted by an owl that had just zoomed in through the window. He took the letter clutched between the owl's claws and sent the creature off again. Reading the letter, he tossed it on the counter.

"A greeting from Harry," he said, meaning Harry Potter, the famous man who happened to be Lydia's godfather.

"Ron...the letter came today," Marie told him, casting a meaningful glance at Lydia.

"What?" Lydia demanded immediately.

Her father looked slightly solemn. "Lydia," he said, "we have some news for you."

"News? What kind of news? Did somebody die? Is Grandpa Arthur okay?"

"He's fine, sweetie," her mother assured her. "Well, you know how Daddy came to America from England?"

"Yeah?" Lydia asked suspiciously.

"I went to a very good school there," Ron said. "It closed down for a while after...after what went on in the wizarding world..."

Lydia knew he meant the second Dark Age, when Voldemort, an evil wizard her father spoke of with a little fear still in his voice, had come back to power after her godfather, known as The Boy Who Lived, had, by a miracle, caused Voldemort to lose his powers. When he came back, he was more powerful and terrible than before. Many lives were taken, including that of some of her father's friends.

"You've talked about Pigzits before."

"Hogwarts," her mother corrected her.

Her father nodded. "Er...well, I'm sure I told you they re-opened with a new headmaster" –he grimaced—"and this fall, we'd like to enroll you in it. They raised the age so the youngest you can be is thirteen instead of eleven, and you'll only be a year behind..."

"Hang on, hang on," Lydia said. "I don't know any magic. I'm a skid, remember?"

"Squib," her mother corrected her again. "And, no you aren't."

"What do you mean?" Lydia demanded while trying not to show that she did, in fact, know what they meant. For the last few months, she'd discovered a touch of magical ability in her. Once, she got mad at her friend Ashley, and Ashley's face had turned red. That wasn't the uncommon part. It stayed red for the next week. Another time she got mad at a boy and told him to piss off, and the next moment, his pants were wet. Really wet. He'd shot her the dirtiest look her could muster while trying to preserve his dignity (which was quite difficult, considering his pants were rapidly getting wetter and wetter). He stayed clear of her from then on. All her friends kept saying, "What a coincidence—right when you said, 'Piss off...'" Then, at one of her classes (she was homeschooled, and took various classes like art, karate, etc.) she had become so frustrated with the glass she was supposed to be drawing that suddenly, it broke. It wasn't like a regular glass explosion; the glass was split flawlessly in two. Her flustered teacher had ushered her out of the class and told her to take the rest of the class off to calm her nerves. She had jammed her hands into her pockets and left sulkily.

"Your art teacher gave us a call and told us what happened. Honey, why didn't you tell us?" Marie asked.

"Because I don't want to be a witch! I want to be a normal kid and have friends and a boyfriend and have nothing to do with magic!" she yelled.

Her parents exchanged looks. "I think you're a little young for a boyfriend, dear, but we'd like you to go. For your sake."

Lydia bellowed, "I DON'T WANT—wait, isn't the school in England?"

"Yes..." Her father shifted.

Lydia stared, outraged, at her parents. "You mean," she said in a voice barely more than a whisper, "we're _moving?"_

"Yes," her dad said, "and it's final."

"No way. No way! I am NOT moving! You can't make me!"

"Oh yes we can," Ron said grimly. "We move next week."

Lydia gaped, her mouth flapping open and closed like a helpless fish. "We can't move _next week!"_ she insisted hotly. "What about my friends and everything? What about MY LIFE?"

"Your life is moving too," her mother said. "You can keep in contact with your friends by email and phone."

The girl struggled for words. Finding them, she said in a low, fierce tone, "I _hate_ you." With that, she bounded up the stairs and slammed her door with a resounding _boom._ Then she flopped on her bed and started to cry.

-----------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, Lydia woke up to remember the unpleasant reality that crashed down on her. Anger renewed, she slipped out of bed and stomped downstairs, wordlessly sitting down hard on a chair at the table (and feeling her tailbone hit the wood, knowing she'd have a bruise there the next day). Her dad had left for work, and Marie was making breakfast. Her mom walked into the room and silently served Lydia her favorite waffles with strawberry sauce.

After a few uncomfortable minutes (and many more uncomfortable bites, accompanied by chewing), Lydia burst out, "What letter came yesterday?"

Marie handed her an envelope. Lydia snatched it, glaring at her mother for ignoring her, and took out the paper.

_Dear Ms. Weasley,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardly. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Severus Snape_

_Headmaster_

Lydia stared at the letter. "God, they sound demented." Then, re-reading the letter: "Today's August first," she said aloud with a huge amount of sudden relief. "They wanted an owl by the thirty-first! You can't send me!"

"We sent it yesterday," was the first sentence from her mother behind the newspaper she was reading.

"You sent it without telling me I was going first?" Lydia asked loudly. "Geez, what kind of a family do I live in?"

"A good one that wants to take care of you," her mom said, lowering the newspaper momentarily to fix a stern eye on her daughter.

"Yeah right—a good one, eh? One that sends their daughter to a school she's never heard of and doesn't want to go to and has to _move to another country to go to?!"_

Her mother sighed and went to refill her cup of coffee while Lydia stared stupidly at her waffle.

"Waffle, waffle, on my plate—tell me, these my parents ain't," she muttered, knowing it was improper grammar but not finding anything else to rhyme with.

"Lyddie, Lyddie, in her chair, why've you got a sour stare?" her mother countered, returning from the kitchen.

"Stupid, stupid, mom o'er there, I hate you, that's why I've got this stare," she said rudely, rising from her chair and grabbing her now soggy waffle as her mom cried, "Lydia! That's enough of this attitude you're putting on. It's not that bad!"

"You're not the one who has to go to a stupid new school. Who the hell cares what damned school I go to?"

"Lydia! Language!"

"Who the hell cares?" she yelled, then ran up to her room again, thinking she could change her parents' minds. How little she knew.

--------------------------------------------------------

Well, I hope you liked that. I'd highly appreciate reviews -points to the button- See, over there, at the bottom-left of your screen? Press the 'go' button and tell me what you think (and if you want more!)! Thankies!! -bows-


	2. Relatives and a New Friend

A week later, Lydia was standing in front of their fireplace with the bags she'd packed with her parents.

"Did you give the key to the new family?" Ron asked his wife, meaning the family that was moving in.

"Yes, dear. We're all ready."

"What does our _fireplace_ have to do with our transportation? It's kind of stupid to have a fire when it's already really warm. I'm hot." Lydia was still assuming a cold edge when she addressed her parents. She felt rather stupid just standing there. She also felt very bitter. In the last week, she'd called up all her friends to say goodbye and giving excuses for why she was going. Tempted as she was to just say casually, "Oh, yeah, I'm a witch and I'm moving to England to go to a magic school," she knew she couldn't. They were going to stay with Ron's family until they secured a house.

"Floo, dear?" Marie asked her husband, proffering a small Ziploc bag filled with green powder.

"Of course," he replied, taking out a pinch. He tossed it into the flames, which suddenly roared up high and turned—_green._

Her father stepped forward, and, to Lydia's amounting shock, into the flames. She nearly screamed.

"The Burrow!" Ron said loudly, and with a _whoosh,_ he was gone.

"Oh my god!" Lydia screamed. "What happened?"

"It's all right, dear. He's been transported to your grandparents' house. Now, hurry up and go. I'll follow."

Gulping and shaking, Lydia dipped her hand into the bag and threw the powder into the flames. She stepped in. It felt warm and breezy.

"The Burrow!" she cried. Suddenly a force took ahold of her that she could not escape. It felt like she was being pulled down, down...farther and farther... The green flames spun sickeningly around her, and she closed her eyes, feeling nauseous. Her head spun, more intensely than it did during a ride at the amusement parks she'd gone to. She squeezed her eyes shut with discomfort; then suddenly she felt herself flying forward – and into someone's arms.

For a few moments she just stayed completely still, ill feelings fading. Then slowly she opened her eyes.

For a moment she thought she had been transported to the wrong house. After a moment of staring into the grayest eyes she'd ever seen, she allowed her eyes to take in short, thick, wavy, nearly black hair, dark, even eyebrows, a strong nose and soft lips. Then the person released her and helped her stand, holding her hand. She stared, then felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Lyddie, dear! My, you've grown!" her grandmother cried with joy. "Give your old grandma a hug."

Molly Weasley, a plump, gray-haired woman with a jolly face, gave Lydia a huge hug. "Lyddie, dear, this is Daniel. He lives next door, and he's been helping me and your grandfather out with a few things us old folks can't manage." She winked.

"Nice to meet you," Daniel said in a voice that had obviously gone through the whole voice-changing stage. It was deep and smooth, and, like her father and grandparents, carried a British accent.

"Lydia, you got through okay?" Ron asked her. She nodded as, behind her, something large hit the back of her legs.

Daniel yanked her by the waist away from the fireplace suddenly as several suitcases and boxes appeared out of the fire. He looked down at her (as he was a good half-foot taller than her) and grinned. Somewhere inside her, something melted...

"Well!" Marie said, hands on her hips as she stepped out of the fireplace, wand in hand. "I thought we'd said no boyfriends!"

Everybody laughed – except Marie and Lydia. Marie's lips were slightly tight, like they got when she thought no one was taking her seriously. Lydia was just plain embarrassed.

"Oh, now, Marie, it's so good to see you again!" Lydia's grandmother said, approaching the woman and hugging her.

Daniel released Lydia for the second time as more family greetings were passed along. "So you're Molly's granddaughter," he said. "I've heard a lot about you." He started walking towards the back door, and Lydia followed.

"Oh, goodness," she said. "I hope she didn't tell you too much. She didn't tell you about the rose incident, did she?" Daniel opened the door, and she slipped outside.

"No," he said, laughing. "What was that about?"

After further pressing, Lydia finally said, "All right, I'll tell you. I was about six or so, and I was being really hyper, so Grandpa sent me to play outside. See, Grandma has always prided herself on her roses. You've probably seen them outside, in front."

"Yes, I've pruned them a few times," he said. "They are quite nice."

"She never let me near them," Lydia said, snorting slightly. "Anyway, so I was outside and I saw her bushes and picked some of the roses. Grandma's so pickety that she _counts_ the roses, like she's afraid Uncle Fred or Uncle George would curse them off, so that evening she was outside and suddenly we heard a shriek. It scared everyone so bad; they thought she was having a heart attack or something! We rushed outside, and Grandma was turning as red as her roses.

"'Arthur Weasley!' she screamed. 'Where are my roses?' Grandpa had turned so white when he heard her shriek that we thought he might follow her example and drop dead, but when he saw she was only worked up about her 'silly plants', as he calls them, he just stared for about a minute while Grandma glared. Then he started to snigger, then he laughed out loud! I have to say, Grandma was a funny sight. Her hair was frizzy and she had fixed the evil eye on us all, which looks pretty silly on her face, it being so friendly and all. Soon we were all laughing, except for me, who ran inside and came back out with the roses and said solemnly, 'Here's your roses, Gammy.' You should have seen her face just then; it was hilarious."

Daniel, laughing, asked, "Did you get in trouble?"

"Luckily, no. I think I was too young for Grandma to really get angry at me."

Just then, someone called, "Lydia! Daniel!"

They went back inside, and down the stairs came Arthur Weasley, Lydia's grandfather, who excitedly came up to Lydia and exclaimed, "Lydia! How's life in the Muggle world been going for you?"

"Just fine, Grandpa," Lydia said patiently. She knew her grandfather was intensely interested in the Muggle world.

Her grandfather smiled. His hair was nearly all gone now, and the previously bright red was overcome by gray. Friendly wrinkles played around his eyes, mouth and forehead. When Lydia was young, she used to ask her grandfather to crease his forehead so she could feel the bumps. Now, suddenly she felt the childish urge sweep over her again, but she restrained herself, knowing it was silly and still somehow desiring to posses the freedom of a young one...

"It's so wonderful you're going to Hogwarts," her grandmother was saying. "I was worried your parents would send you to some school in America...and I've never heard of a school as good as Hogwarts!"

"I think I might have just kept homeschooling," Lydia said. Molly frowned, and Lydia realized her grandmother had wanted her to go to a magic school and would have disapproved of her parents' decision if they'd continued her non-magic education, so she added, "Only since I've got magic...they wouldn't have." Lydia still felt upset that her parents were forcing her to leave her old life to one where they mainly depended on magic. Magic. A word commonly used in fairy tales and fantasy stories... Oh, yes, she'd seen plenty of magic, with her parents both having supple skills, but she'd mostly ignored it and pretended it didn't exist. It seemed strange and alien, and if her friends found out, they'd think her family was psycho. Except for Lauren Lovegood, one girl who was strangely absentminded and had been in Lydia's old art class. Once she'd drawn a picture of a giant castle that looked so real Lydia could almost touch the cold walls through the paper. Lauren was always spacing out and reading a magazine called The Quibbler that her parents ran. Lauren's mom was strange too, and Lauren looked almost exactly like her mother, with long blonde hair and big blue eyes. Only she wasn't really attractive, but she wasn't plain either. Lauren had mysteriously left the class however, with only a simple note from her parents saying that they were no longer in the area. The funny thing was, Lydia's father seemed to recognize the name "Lovegood" when Lydia mentioned it once. Lydia shook her head from the memories and returned to the chatter.

"So, Daniel, you're starting Hogwarts this year as well?" Lydia's father asked.

"Yes. I'm a second year though, since I'm nearly fifteen and I started last year. It's really quite a nice place, compared to the schools I used to go to."

"Is it hard?" Lydia found herself asking.

"Not really. You just have to keep up with your work."

"And what time do we come home?"

Daniel shook his head. "You don't during the school year. You stay at the school overnight."

"Like a _boarding school?"_ Lydia nearly yelped.

"It's not so bad," Daniel told her, but Lydia felt like her parents were sending her away. She bit her lip and lowered her head, hiding the sudden wetness in her eyes. _Don't cry in front of everyone, _she told herself firmly, and tried to subtly wipe her eyes. Her grandparents were chatting with her mom and dad, and Daniel sort of stared over her father's head.

"Well, I'd best be going," Daniel said. "Maybe we can go to Diagon Alley together, Lydia."

She raised her head and attempted a smile. "Yeah, that'd be great," she said, wondering what on earth Diagon Alley was.

"See you," he said, then he left. Lydia was embarrassed for so obviously making him leave because of her tears, and she told her parents she was tired and went to the guest bedroom as her mom told her. She lay down and sighed, allowing her thoughts to swirl around her.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Thanks gwenyth-rose and Kogina for the reviews!! Yes, gwenyth-rose, I actually was considering the name "Harry Potter: The Next Generation" (kind of like Star Trek, eh?) and I may change it. Lydia is not going to meet HP and HG's kids... you'll see why in upcoming chapters. SPOILER (well, sorta): Harry and Hermione are both at Hogwarts. Just wait... Now, if you'd be so kind, review review review! Thanks!


	3. Makeup, Boys and Competition?

"Lydia, I think we should take Daniel up on his offer to go to Diagon Alley," Ron told his daughter on a Sunday morning at the breakfast table, just a few days after they had arrived in the home of his parents. "It'd be good for you to go with a friend."

Lydia's low spirits lifted slightly for the first time in days. "Okay," she agreed. "I'll call him." She took a forkful of eggs and jammed them into her mouth along with the ketchup she'd insisted on decorating her eggs with.

Her grandmother cocked her head. "Call him?" she asked, puzzled.

"You mean, with a phelley-tone?" Arthur Weasley asked excitedly, waving his egg around on the end of a knife and spraying the wall behind him with yellow yolk. He turned to look at the wall and frowned.

"Telephone," Lydia corrected. "Yeah." Then she squinted at them and said, "You _do_ have a phone, don't you?"

"Actually, no. Though I've been thinking..." Grandpa wheedled, getting up to get a towel.

"_No, _Arthur," Molly said firmly, looking at him sternly.

"Well then, how am I supposed to ask him?" Lydia asked in a slightly disrespectful tone.

"You walk next door and ask," Marie said severely. "Is that too hard?"

"No," Lydia retorted. "Let me go upstairs and change." She got out of her chair, carefully avoiding Arthur, who was wiping the egg from the wall, and went upstairs into her room. Once in front of her bathroom mirror, she carefully took out of a drawer a small bag of makeup she had bought without her parents' permission. Out came mascara, eyeliner, eyeshadow, cover-up, lipstick and lip gloss.

She took a long look at herself in the mirror. Brown – nearly black – hair, slightly, wavy, brown-green eyes, sloppily tweezed eyebrows, full lips. Her lips were the best part of her face, she decided. The eyebrows needed work. Fingers she wished were steadier held tweezers aloft, then she pulled out a hair.

"Ow!" she yelped, then, gritting her teeth, pulled another. After several more yelps and evening out of the different brows, she scrutinized her reflection. With a slight gasp of horror she realized her eyebrows were now a different shape and much thinner! She groaned, feeling like she might cry, then took a deep breath and told herself it wasn't too bad and she needed a change anyways. They were more even now, at least.

She took out the mascara brush and slowly brushed it against her upper eyelashes. To her dismay, her hand slipped and a black line appeared on her eyelid. Toilet paper wiped it away, and she tried again. Finally she got a coat on – clumpy, but it had to do.

Simple pink gloss covered her lips, and then she realized the red spot on her chin wasn't a dab of lipstick.

It was a zit, pure and simple. She'd had acne before, but not often. She pushed on it, but it didn't go away. It popped.

"Ewwwww!" she cried. It turned much redder than before. She picked up the cover-up and applied a bit. The cover-up didn't match by at least two shades, but she had to make do, so she smeared it a bit. Well, you could tell she was wearing cover-up, but it was better than a red spot on her face.

With a groan she took an overall look at her face. Lumpy mascara, cover-up...once again, she decided her lips were the best part of her face.

Why was she doing this? a voice asked suddenly inside her.

Because I want to look good.

Why just now?

Because I'm going to see Daniel...

"I don't think I have a crush on him," she told herself.

"Crush on whom?"

Lydia spun around. Her mother stood there, cocking her head much like Molly Weasley. "What do you have on your face?" she asked suddenly, coming closer.

"Nothing," Lydia said, turning her head and rushing past.

"No, I want to see!" her mother said, catching her arm and spinning her around. Her eyes darted across Lydia's face. "Where did you get makeup?" she asked.

"I...I bought it," Lydia confessed angrily.

"Lydia, you're not allowed to wear makeup at fourteen. Take it off."

"Why not?" Lydia shouted.

"Because you're too young. Now go wash that stuff off."

Seething, Lydia obeyed, but left on a bit of the cover-up. "I'm going!" she yelled, then left the house, slamming the front door. She knew the house to her right was Daniel's, and she walked over to the door and rang the bell.

After a moment, the door opened. "Oh, hey," Daniel said as her heart suddenly beat faster.

"Hey...you want to go to Diagon Alley for supplies sometime soon?" she asked.

"Sure... Hey, Phoebe!" he called. At his side appeared a short, blond-haired girl with a body Lydia instantly envied.

"Yeah?" she asked. "Who's this?" She smiled at Lydia.

"Lydia...uh, your last name is Weasley right? Oh, yeah, of course, since your dad's the...yeah, anyways, this is Phoebe McCrey."

"We're just about to go to a movie," Phoebe said. "Can this wait? No offence, Lydia, but we're going to miss the movie if we don't hurry." She flashed a friendly smile to show she wasn't trying to shoo Lydia away.

_A movie?_ Lydia asked herself, then brushed the thought away. "Oh, okay, but so when can we go?"

"How about tomorrow?" Daniel asked.

"Fine by me," Lydia said.

"I'm gonna get my purse," Phoebe told Daniel, briefly kissing his cheek...awfully close to his lips.

Lydia's heart sank faster than an anchor. Trying to keep the unhappiness out of her face, she asked casually, "So, you guys going out?"

"Kind of..." Daniel said. He leaned closer to her. "I don't really like her, but she asked me out, so..."

Instantly the previously sunk heart was filled like helium and rose. "Oh," she said, not successfully keeping the relief out of her face. "I see... Well, you guys have a great time! See you tomorrow...around two?"

"Sure. See ya."

She made a daring move and smiled flirtatiously. He stared for a second, then laughed. "You're funny," he complimented her. At least, she thought it was a compliment. Actually, she wasn't sure what it meant.

When she got home, she marched to the nearest mirror and reproduced the smile. Then she knew why he'd laughed. When she smiled like that, it looked like she was baring her fangs and widening her eyes – and her nostrils flared. At first, she hit her forehead with her palm in exasperation. Could the day get any worse? It did look quite silly though, she admitted to herself, and giggled in spite of herself. Then her thoughts shot to Phoebe. Did Daniel really not like her? She seemed so...perfect.

Just then Ron came up to Lydia. "I bought this for you a while ago, but I guess now is the time you'll need it most." He shoved something into her hands. Lydia looked, and saw a silver and black cell phone. Her eyes widened with delight, and she threw her arms around her father, saying, "Oooooh, thank you Daddy!" She hadn't called him "Daddy" since she was little, but her very own cell phone...

"Take good care of it, and don't go over your ten thousand minutes a month," Ron reminded her.

"Ten thousand minutes?" Lydia shrieked. "This will be so cool to use at school!"

Ron's mouth quivered upward slightly. "Ah... Okay, you go ahead and bring it to school... Not much use it'll be though..." And he walked away.

Not much use? Did they ban cell phones? She hoped not. Now she could call Daniel! Abruptly she realized she didn't have his number. Then her phone rang. Hesitantly, she pressed the green button and held the phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Lydia." It was Daniel!

"Funny, I was just wondering what your number was."

"Oh yeah? Well, I'm on Phoebe's cell; we're in a long line for the movie. We'll probably miss some of it, and I decided to call the number your dad gave me." Then he told her his home number.

"Great," she said. "I'll program it into my phone right away."

"Oh, we're buying tickets now, gotta go!"

"Bye!" Then the line went dead.

She grinned suddenly and hung up. A cell phone! Now, she decided as she punched in several numbers, to call my friends...


	4. A Dream and Diagon Alley

After traumatizing her grandmother with her cell phone for the rest of the day (at first Molly thought Lydia was have a mental breakdown and talking to herself until she discovered "that funny piece of plastic" Lydia held to her ear. Then Lydia had her friends talk loudly from the phone so her grandma was convinced someone had broken in and was talking rather loudly for a burglar), Lydia slept a deep sleep – interrupted only by a strange dream.

Surrounded by a black mist that seemed to glow despite its color, her senses were all...clogged? Dampened? Limited? Whatever the word, she could barely see, hear, feel, smell...she couldn't even taste her own mouth. It felt sort of like she was under anesthesia. With an enormous effort, she took a step forward. Instantly a tall spiral of smoke appeared before her, then it vanished to reveal a person...with a featureless face. She squinted and tried to look closer, but all she saw was a colorless blur for a face.

It motioned for her to come closer, and, without wanting to or ordering her body to follow the thing's command, she approached the being with her usual speed.

A blast of pure light erupted from the thing's face suddenly, right where a left eye would be. Then a blast from the right eye's space, then one from the nose area...the last one, from the mouth, faded along with the other ones...and Lydia saw her own face looking back at her. It smiled mischievously, and winked. Immediately the rest of its body matched Lydia's. Suddenly Lydia couldn't breathe. Her nose and mouth felt like they had a thick cloth pressed against them, blocking her airways... Darkness crept to the sides of her eyes and took over her vision as she choked, unable to scream... The last thing she saw as her body hit the ground was the thing, staring down at her as it turned its back on her death...

With a jolt, Lydia was brought back to reality, covered with cold sweat and gasping in shuddering breaths. Nausea overtook her, and she stumbled to the bathroom and retched.

Shaking and wiping the bile from her lips, Lydia closed her eyes and gulped several breaths. Trying to calm herself, she thought, it wasn't that bad a dream! Why am I reacting like this?

A steady throbbing pounded in her head. Suddenly a familiar ring sounded – her cell phone. With a shaking hand, she reached into her pajama's breast pocket and took out her phone. Something twisted her gut as she realized she'd last put the phone on her bedside table – why was it in her _pocket?_

"H-hello?" she asked, voice trembling.

Silence answered. She took another look at the phone:

UNREGISTERED DEVICE/NUMBER it read as identification for the caller. Unregistered _device?_ What did that mean?

"Hello? Anyone there?" she tried again.

Nothing. Then abruptly, a barely distinguishable hissing noise came through the cellular. It got louder, until Lydia heard slithery words being formed.

"What do you want?" she cried into the phone.

The hissing stopped, and her phone beeped to let her know the connection was broken.

Lydia knelt in the bathroom, shivering, for several minutes before she got up, went to her bedroom and crawled into bed. There she stayed awake for several hours, too afraid to go to sleep, until exhaustion took over and her eyes finally closed. This time, her sleep was dreamless.

Staring at her fruit salad with tired eyes, Lydia sat at the breakfast table silently while everyone else talked about what kind of robe to get for Lydia, whether goblins were trustworthy or not, and getting a phone (that was her grandpa, of course, with Molly saying, "_No, _Arthur").

"Lydia, are you all right?" Marie asked.

"I didn't get very good sleep last night," Lydia said. "I'm kinda tired."

Ron frowned. "Should we go to Diagon Alley tomorrow instead?"

"No – no, it's fine," Lydia mumbled. She forced a slight smile, eating a grape for good measure. Ron kept his eye on her a moment longer, then resumed his talk.

At precisely two, the doorbell rang. Arthur ushered Daniel in, saying, "So glad you could come, my boy..."

"Do I have to pay for all my own stuff?" Lydia asked her mother. "I only have about twenty bucks—"

"Oh, no, hon, we've got your own bank account we've been saving up for you," Marie told her. "You have a total amount of about two hundred Galleons, fifty Sickles and fifty Knuts."

"Huh?"

"Wizard money, dear."

Lydia bit her tongue. "Isn't that a lot of money for you to give to me?" she asked.

"Well, since your grandpa helped in the final defeat of Voldemort—" (here Arthur and Molly both shuddered; Ron winced) "—and worked for the Ministry of Magic, after he retired he gets an extremely large sum of money each month and donates some to your account."

"Thanks, Grampa," Lydia said. "How come I was never told about this?"

"Didn't think of it," was the nonchalant answer.

"Oh, by the way, hi Daniel," Lydia said.

"Hey," he said, smiling. "Shall we go?"

"Of course," Marie said, grabbing her purse. "Ron, are you coming?"

"Yeah," he said, planting a kiss on her newly lipsticked lips. He smiled, red on his lips.

"Oh Ron, my makeup—" Then she looked at his lips and burst out laughing. "You'd better wash your mouth," she told him.

"I'll manage," he said indifferently. He winked at Lydia.

"Are we going by Floo?" she asked nervously.

"How else?" Ron said. She groaned inwardly.

They proceeded to the fireplace, where Lydia was volunteered by her parents to go first after being handed a large bag ("Money for your supplies," her mom said).

"Maybe I should go first, in case I need to catch her again," Daniel said jokingly. "Hey, I'll go first."

Lydia shot him a grateful look as he disappeared in the strange green flames. Then she followed with the shout, "Diagon Alley!"

This time, she closed her eyes and steadied her body, so when she stopped, she was able to casually step out of the fireplace next to Daniel in—

She gasped. She was in a vast alley, with bustling crowds and chattering shoppers. Various shops were positioned at either side of the alley, titled names such as "Flourish and Blott's" and "Wendolyn's Witch Wares".

"Never been to Diagon Alley before, eh?" Daniel asked.

"N-no," she replied shakily. "It's amazing!"

He grinned, and – took her hand. Lydia's head snapped to look at him, but he was only leading her to Flourish and Blott's. When they reached the entryway, he let go. "We'd better get our books here," he told her. He waved at Marie behind them to let her know where they were, and then they were in.

Countless amounts of books were stacked on numerous shelves. Lydia couldn't see any books she'd ever seen before. One book was called "A History of Muggles", and Lydia remembered that Muggles were people who weren't magic. They have _histories_ of us? she asked herself, then corrected herself. I'm magic too, she remembered. I-I'm a _witch._

It sounded strange to call herself a word she'd always dreaded. But then she saw a face she knew...

"Lydia?" Lauren Lovegood called. "Lydia, is that you?"

Daniel looked on curiously as Lydia said uneasily, "Oh, hi Lauren."

Lauren looked quirkily at Lydia, saying, "I'm surprised you didn't tell me sooner."

"T-tell you what?"

Lauren rolled her eyes, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "That you're a witch, of course. I mean, with your dad and all I knew it was in you and I thought maybe you'd talk to me about it sometime, since most of the people you knew were Muggles. "

"I honestly didn't know you were a witch," Lydia confessed.

Lauren frowned. "What, your dad didn't say anything? Gosh, he knew my mum was magic..."

"My dad knew your mum?"

"Oh, yes, of course, they were at Hogwarts together. My mum helped with the defeat of You-Know-Who as well."

Lydia's eyes widened slightly. Lauren cast an interested look at Daniel and asked quizzically, "And who might you be?"

"I'm Daniel," he introduced himself politely.

"Lauren Lovegood. I've known Lydia's family for a long time."

The way she said it, it seemed like she and Lydia were good friends.

"Uh – but we never really got to know each other, really," Lydia said hurriedly.

Lauren gave her a strange look.

"Well, we'd best be going," Daniel said, taking Lydia by the waist and steering her outside. "Nice meeting you!" he called over his shoulder.

"Thanks," Lydia gasped. "That was weird; I never really knew _anything _about her... My dad knew her mum...?"

"Guess so," Daniel said. "We'll get our books later; I could tell you were uncomfortable."

"Thanks," she repeated, noticing suddenly he hadn't removed his hand from her waist. "Um...don't I need a wand or something?"

"Yep... Ollivander's is the best." Daniel took her to an old-looking shop. They entered, and inside was an even older-looking man with wispy white hair.

"Lydia Weasley, I presume?" the man asked. "Don't ask me how I know; you look like your father. I remember when he came in here for his first wand... After using his brother's and comparing their performance to a new one, he was quite amazed... So happy was he that I do believe he is the cause of my sign..." He gestured toward the sign outside, which was hanging lower on one side than the other.

"He jumped for joy and loosened the chain holding it up. Ah, well, let's see," he continued, selecting a box from one of many shelves. "Holly, nine and a half inches, unicorn hair. Just wave it about."

Lydia flapped it around but no sooner had she moved than the wand was snatched out of her hand.

"Perhaps not," Mr. Ollivander said, giving her another one. "Redwood, eleven inches, extract of silver..."

Once again, Lydia waved it around, but another was shoved into her hand barely after she'd tried it.

"Ahhh... Willow, eleven inches, dragon scale..."

Feeling exasperated, she waved it... But this time, when she moved, a whirl of wind appeared and a line of light shone from where the wand had moved to where it was in her hand.

"Excellent!" the man said, obviously delighted. "Wonderful! That will be eleven Galleons."

Lydia peered in the bag she'd been given. "Um...which ones are Galleons?" she asked Daniel, who pointed out the big gold ones.

She paid Mr. Ollivander and left the shop, twirling the wand in her hand. "So, what can I do with this?" she asked.

Daniel snatched it suddenly. "Not what you're doing," he informed her loftily. "Wands have to be handled with care. They can be broken or send off some kind of spell you didn't want it to do."

"Oh." Lydia blushed. "Okay." She reluctantly put it back in its box. "Where do we go next?"

"We could try Flourish and Blott's again," he suggested.

"Okay," Lydia agreed. Once again inside the store, Lydia's eye was caught by "Care and Beauty of the Face: Use Magic To Improve Your Looks" and picked up a copy. The print was shadowed, and she squinted until she realized the shadow was created by a person. She looked up.

A young man with thick reddish-blond hair and exceedingly good looks stood before her, smiling a gentle and gorgeous smile.

"Hello," he said. Even his voice was beautiful. "I'm Michael Sameya."

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Thanks y'all for reviewing!! gwenyth-rose, if you look at Chapter 1, I belive it says that the Hogwarts raised the minumum age for enrolling. That's why Daniel's a second year instead of third. And I actually prefer my chapters short, thank you! :)

I know, Earadel, you can't believe that I, (I'd put my name here but I'd prefer to keep it secret) have appointed Snape headmaster. Eh, well, wait and see m'dear! And Ron isn't with Hermione because Hermione is d... I'm giving too much away. Just wait! By the way, where's my King Arthur bit I did at your house? I'm still waiting for it.

"Kogina" I'm so glad you like my fic. You don't need to keep referring to me as 'C', just call me FalafelPrincess or something... Oh well, 'C' works too. ::thwaps you::

Thanks everyone, and again, keep reviewing!


	5. More Diagon Alley

Sorry for not updating in so long! Highschool started and I have far too much homework. Not to mention two other fics. But I hope you like this chapter, and please don't forget to review! ::kisses:: (Oh and thanks Sakura - but wait and see what happens with Snape...)

---------------------------------------------

Lydia goggled for a moment, then recovered her senses and tried to smile. "N-nice to meet you," she stammered.

Michael looked carelessly down at the book she was reading. She blushed, and he said, "You don't need a book like that. You're so cute already."

Her blush deepened. "Thanks," she said, lowering her head.

Bending over slightly, his finger appeared at her chin, lifting her face to look into his deep, blue-green eyes. "You're _really_ cute," he commented.

"Um, okay," Lydia said, beginning to feel uncomfortable – but he was _so_ cute it was hard for her to break away.

Suddenly Daniel was at her side, observing quietly the miniscule distance between Michael and Lydia's lips.

Lydia stepped back, embarrassed. "Oh...Daniel..."

"Michael. You trying to get another girl?" Daniel asked calmly, but Lydia felt an aura of anger emancipating from him.

"This one's rather cute, don't you think?" Michael asked, leaning casually against a bookshelf. "Well, must be going – see you later," he said winking at Lydia and leaving.

Lydia's face felt rather hot.

"Don't get mixed up with Michael," Daniel told her firmly. "He's always trying to win another girl. I reckon he's had twelve girlfriends at once."

Lydia kept silent. She was noticing her heartbeat was at a normal pace, not like when she was usually with Daniel.

Mostly in silence, Daniel helped her pick out the books that were required.

After paying, Lydia asked, "Where next?"

"I'm sure your mom wants to get you fitted for a robe," Daniel said.

"Aren't you coming?" she asked.

"I've got to get a few things." His tone seemed slightly stiff, and it hurt her. He must have noticed, because he said, "Meet me at Izzy's Ice Cream in an hour?"

"Okay," she said, spotting her mother. "See you!"

Her mom watched Daniel go. "Are you going out with him?" she asked.

"What? No!" Lydia said, shocked. "I don't even like him." As the sentence slipped out, she wondered if it was true. She knew she'd liked him; was that over? Michael...

"Okay, let's go." Her mom steered her to "Madam Malkin's Robes" where Lydia was measured and fitted for a new robe. After a half hour of standing, squirming and having tape measures flitting about her nose, finally she left with her robe.

"Want to get your wand now?" Marie asked as they stepped into the open air.

"Oh, I already got it," Lydia said.

Marie looked disappointed. "Oh. Can I see it?"

Lydia took out the wand. "It's _willow, eleven inches, dragon scale_," she said, imitating Mr. Ollivander's wispy voice.

Her mom took it and turned it over in her hand. "It's a nice one," she said approvingly.

"It's cool. So what can I do with it?"

"Everything. Anything." Her mom returned the wand.

"Where next?"

Her mom checked her watch. "Oh, looks like it's time to go."

"But I promised Daniel I'd meet him at Izzy's Ice Cream store in half an hour from now!"

Marie looked at her strangely. "There's no ice cream shop here."

Lydia's eyebrows furrowed. "But there's got to be."

"I don't think so, sweetie. There's a shop that sells food and ice cream, but no Izzy's Ice Cream."

Lydia rushed forward.

"Lydia!" Marie called. Lydia didn't turn. She knew there had to be an ice cream store, so she surged along with the crowd until she saw it – a small shop squeezed between two much larger shops.

"Lydia, what do you think you're doing! Stay close to me!"

"Mom! I'm not a little kid! And look, here's the place!"

Sure enough, there was a small sign that read "Izzy's Ice Cream".

Marie squinted. "Where?"

"Right there!" Lydia pointed.

"Honey, I don't see anything—"

"That's cuz grown-ups can't see it," said a voice. Lydia looked over at a girl who looked a bit older than her. She had black hair, slightly wavy, that reached her shoulders in a sophisticated way. Her eyes were piercingly blue, and she wore no makeup. Her shirt was a red tank top that was covered in black fishnet, and her blue flares had a bright red stripe down each leg and were rolled up to reveal wild red and white striped knee socks. Overall, she looked fashionable and wild at the same time, and the look in her eyes made you want to get to know her, or fear her.

"You must be new to Diagon Alley," the girl continued. "They put this place in a few years ago, and all the kids know about it. Izzy magicked it so no adults but Izzy would see it."

"Oh," Lydia said eloquently.

"Okay, I'll come back in a half hour," Marie told her daughter. "You're fifteen minutes early, so that'll give you fifteen minutes to get ice cream."

After she left, Lydia turned to the girl, who was watching her curiously.

"I'm Cecilia Trelawney," said the girl, extending her hand.

"Lydia Weasley," she replied, shaking the girl's hand.

Cecilia smiled. "Ron's daughter, of course."

"Um...how do you know?"

"My aunt taught him while he was at Hogwarts," Cecilia told her. "My aunt's Sibyll Trelawney. She's quite an _interesting_ person." She wrinkled her nose at "interesting". "She's like a psychic, only she's mostly wrong. A bunch of junk. I happened to inherit some real skill."

"Really?" Lydia asked excitedly. "What do you see about me?"

"I make it a point not to tell people their future, lest they screw it up," Cecilia said. "Unless, of course, they're in grave danger or something. I've saved twenty-seven lives so far, and prevented forty-three accidents."

Lydia gaped. "Wow..."

Cecilia shrugged. "It's okay. But, just to prove I'm not a phony, I'll tell you about yourself. You're Lydia Marie Weasley, daughter of Ron and Marie, previously Marie Brewer. You're fourteen, fifteen on November fifth. You only recently learned you were going to Hogwarts and you weren't too pleasantly surprised about it. You think you're over your crush with Daniel, and feel a fuzzy feeling when you think about Michael Sameya. Don't go there, dear," she added as Lydia stared in awe.

"How'd you do that?" she asked in shock.

"I can see it all," Cecilia said simply. "Want to go in?" She gestured at the shop. Lydia only nodded.

"Just to let you know, Michael Sameya is a gorgeous charmer but an absolute sleaze," Cecilia informed her as she sat at a table. "I can tell you're infatuated."

Lydia blushed. "Yeah, I guess."

"Hey Lydia," Daniel said, entering the shop. "Who's this?"

"Cecilia Trelawney. You're Daniel Sameya, Michael's brother. You know he's a sleaze and you wish you weren't his brother. Don't worry, you're nice."

"Y-you're Michael's brother?" Lydia asked, shocked for the millionth time that day.

"Yes, he is. He didn't tell you because he's ashamed."

"Would you please stop talking for me!" Daniel said.

"I'm sorry. I get ahead of myself. Please, go ahead and tell her you're sorry and you didn't want to be categorized along with Michael so you conveniently forgot to mention you're related." Cecilia sat back in her chair, then frowned. "Oh dear, I believe I did it again."

Daniel couldn't help laughing. "Well, I guess she said it for me," he said, slipping into a chair.

"She forgives you," Cecilia informed Daniel, and they all laughed again.

This feels comfortable, Lydia thought lazily. I'm with two fun people.

"Okay, ice cream!" Daniel said. "I'm going to try peach cobbler."

"Oh, that one's not that good," Cecilia told him. "Besides, they're out of it."

"Ah, Cecilia, my physic – or psycho – customer!" said a booming, friendly voice. Lydia looked up to see a very tall woman looking down at them.

"Hey Izzy, trouble with Rachel again?" Cecilia asked.

"See, I don't even have to tell her anything, she just knows," Izzy told Daniel. "Yeah, she quit."

"Again."

"I'm expecting her any moment now."

Suddenly a young woman burst in. "I'm back," she grumbled.

"Hello, Rachel dear," Izzy said, winking at Lydia. "Now, what can I get you?"

"I'm very tempted to try hot dog, but I'm in the mood for a cappuccino," Cecilia said, smiling.

"Wait – isn't this an ice cream store?" Lydia asked.

"Yes, you're surprised about their flavors. It's pretty interesting." Cecilia grinned impishly.

"I'll take a blueberry pie," Daniel ordered.

"Um..." Lydia looked at the listings of flavors printed on the ceiling.

"Great place to put the flavors, eh?" Izzy asked, smiling.

"I'll just take a chocolate raspberry mousse," Lydia said.

"Sounds good to me," Izzy replied.

For the next fifteen minutes, the three teens talked, laughed, and got to know each other better. By the end, they were definitely friends.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Okay, hope you liked that! Review review review! ;) Luv y'all!


End file.
